Faölin
by wilddreamgirl
Summary: Non-Canon. Harry destroys Voldemort when possessed in OoTP, unlocking a heritage buried in the past, shrouded in pain. Terrified, grieving, not knowing who to trust, Harry flees, escaping through the veil, into a new chance at life. Contains possible character bashing. Contains Norse Mythology.
1. Chapter 1

I would just like to say that the kernel that grew into this story was provided by another, and the only reason that I have not started it before know was because I had absolutely no idea how to start it off! Hope you like!  
Oh, and I claim no ownership over Harry Potter or LOTR. Pity that.

* * *

 **Chapter One**

Within his mind, fighting against Voldemort, Harry screamed. Clawing at the foul presence, he forced all the Magic he could muster, somehow managing to reach into the surroundings to gather more power to use against the monster. Gathering it all as best he could, he rammed it into what he imagined to be Riddle's soul, all the while chanting _'Never come back! Be dead as you should be, Tom Marvolo Riddle! It was my blood which gave you your form, and I refuse you the power of what you stole! NEVER COME BACK!'  
_ With a scream, the Dark Lord disintegrated.  
Harry screamed too as a locked and barred vault in his mind was ripped open in a similar manner as his scar. Knowledge and memories forced themselves back to their rightful places in his mind, destroying anything set to block their way, and Harry felt his Magic expand as chains seemed to fall from him.

With a gasp, Harry opened his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. Staring up into the haggard-looking face of the Venerable Defeater of Grindelwald and seeing far more in those eyes than he ever wished to, he choked "You failed, Dumbledore. I will not be Sacrificed nor Martyred. I remember everything, Old Manipulator."  
He scrambled up as the man reached for his wand, he shoved past the onlookers, sparing them nary a glance as a vicious looking spell crashed into the ground behind him, he ran, heading back the way he came.  
A large pile of rubble moved to block his way, but Harry bared his teeth in determination, and leaped, his form twisting in midair.

It was a midnight colt that landed on the other side of the rubble, skittering a little before charging off at a full gallop.  
Entering the chaotic remains of the fight between the Order and the Death Eaters (Who appeared to be dead, all in the actions of clutching at their marks) Harry dodged all attempts to catch him, and leaped into the Veil.  
After that, he knew no more.

* * *

 ** _"Oh, Childling."_** _A voice soothed in his ear as he stirred **"Be at peace."  
**_ ** _"Wh-Who are you?"  
_** ** _"You would know me as Mother Hecate, Childling. I guard your world and my Blessed. They will be surely punished for their treatment of you."  
_** _Harry's eyes widened, and he attempted to shift around to find the Goddess, and began to panic when he discovered he couldn't move.  
_ _ **"Mother Hecate, I thank You for Your words and am humbled by Your presence. Might this Colt ask why he has been blessed so?"  
**_ ** _"The Veil that you took your escape through was once used as a judgement for the accused. It sends a person where they most deserve."  
_** _Harry's heart damn near exploded. **"Siri?"** he managed to ask. In return, he got a feeling of calm and amusement. **"He was sent on to another world, Childling. He will be happy, living the life he always wanted. Fear not for him."**_

 _ **"We're different, though."** Harry realised. **"I won't be in the same world as him, will I?"  
**_ ** _"No. Forgive me, but I can do nothing for that. You belong in another world, one where you will be free from your burdens. Live, Little Colt. Live,_** ** _Faölin, Son of Lily and Sleipnir."_** ****


	2. Chapter 2

Faölin

"Westron"

" _Elvish_ "

 _"Thought Speech"_

 ** _Memories_**

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

Harry awoke alone. He was curled on his side in a hollow at the base of a tree, in his human form. Closing his eyes again, he reached out with his Magic, and inhaled sharply.  
The forest was _alive_. There was no other way to describe it, and the young man scrambled to his feet, trying to get his bearings.  
From what he could see, he was in the very centre of this amazing forest, sheltered by the largest tree there.  
Unable to process this all, he fell into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

 ** _Baby Harry cooed up at his Dam with a gummy smile, and the woman picked him up, making sure to take his favourite toy, a midnight black stallion plushie, with him.  
_ _"Oh, my little foal." Lily sighed. "How I miss your Sire."  
"Sory!" the infant begged, and Lily laughed, sitting in the comfortable rocking chair to the side and stroking through his hair.  
"You do love to hear about him, don't you." she murmured. "Alright then. Once upon a time, there was a formidable Magic Wielder- some called him the God of Magic- and his name was Loki. Now, Loki could change his forms, like I, Sire, and Papa Prongs can, but better." she informed Harry consiprationally, who was wide eyed. "One day, he decided to become a Mare, for fun, and met a Stallion, who was acclaimed to be the Best of All Horses. The result was a foal who could take human form, a foal who had eight legs and who could travel through worlds with ease. This was Sleipnir."  
"Sire!" Squealed Harry, clapping.  
"Yes, your Sire!" Lily laughed. "But we know that comes later, don't we? You see, Loki's adopted father, Odin, decided to enslave Sleipnir, make him bear him where he willed, ensuring the Stallion's compliance with an enchanted bridle. There was nothing Loki could do to stop this, as Odin was far, far more powerful than he was. He had done much the same with Loki's other children, your Uncles Fenrir and Jörmungandr, who were imprisoned and banished respectively, and your Aunt Hela, who was forced to become the Queen of Death, forever confined to her home."  
Harry scowled. he always did at this bit. Lily's expression was little better._**

 ** _"Anyway, a few years ago, Sleipnir managed to escape, and hiding from Heimdall the All-Seer, and came to Midgard in his human form, and met a Pegasus-"  
"Dam!" the little boy corrected.  
"Yes, me!" came the agreement. "And our little Hadrian Faölin was made!" Lily grew sad.  
"But Sleipnir could not run forever, and so Odin enslaved him again. But Sleipnir ran so that we would not be connected to him, and we would be safe. However, a single Mother is looked down upon in our world. That's where Papa Prongs comes into the story. He needed an Heir, and so we married, even if we are only friends, and he made you his Heir through Blood Adoption. Now, Faölin, what is the morale of the story?" the woman asked the child seriously, as she did every time.  
"No Bidle." Came the equally serious reply.  
"That's right, no Bridle. Never, ever let anyone harness you, Little Foal. It would break Sire, Dam and Papa Prongs' hearts."_**

* * *

Harry awoke with a gasp, rolling over and vomiting.  
"Sorry." he apologised to the forest.  
"No Bridle, Dam." He choked, remembering the warning, finally, after so long. "Never. Never again shall anyone use me."  
Gently, the tree lifted him up into its boughs, and then spoke "How now, little not-Ent, what be your name?"

Nearly leaping from the cradle in shock, he replied cautiously "Um...I have two?"  
"Which do you prefer, then?" came the slightly irritated reply.  
"Faölin, Sir." Faölin finally decided on, tacking on the Sir as a mark of respect.  
"Hmm. I am Mosscoat. An Ent, if you had not already guessed."  
"I'm sorry, Mosscoat, Sir, but what exactly is an Ent?" the teen asked tentatively, wondering if he was being rude.

"WHAT!" Mosscoat roared, shaking in shock and a large part of horror that this little being did not know what an Ent was.  
"Umm...I'm sort of new to this world, the Lady Mother of mine sent me here to live freely." He explained quietly. "Do you think you could possibly tell me about this new place?"  
"Hmph. Might as well, boy, cannot have you making a fool of yourself now, can we?"

And so the Ent weaved a tale of Creators called Valar and Elves and Hobbits and Dwarves, Humans, Wargs, Rings, and Evil. Faölin was just as enraptured as he always had been with stories as a child, but now he truly understood what this old being was talking about.  
"So now Baggins has gone off to the Shire with the One Ring, to live as best he can with it, and Smaug is defeated, and there is peace."

"Not forever." the teen said with the experience of one who knows. "Evil will always exist, sad though that may be."  
"Then it will always be defeated." came the staunch reply.  
"True enough." Faölin agreed with a bow of his head.

* * *

Time passed. Faölin kept to his Horse form mostly, and was pleasantly surprised when he discovered that he had inherited wings from his mother, though his were almost batlike, and stayed in natural pockets in his back unless he wanted them out. He also discovered that he could communicate mentally when in his Horse form.  
Mosscoat became something of a mentor to him, chiding him when he pushed himself to far- he wanted to be able to fly more than a couple of feet, dammit!- and making sure he ate (Grass was surprisingly tasty, and apples were practically an aphrodisiac).

"If you wish to learn to fly, Colt, then perhaps you should recall my lessons. Who in Arda could teach you the art?" the old Ent finally snapped irritably one day when the colt was sulking. Faölin looked up at his friend and thought. _"Oh!"_ he realised, leaping to his feet. _"The Great Eagles!"_ then he stopped. _"But...Mosscoat...that means leaving."_  
"You cannot stay here for ever." came the stern reply.  
 _"You'll be alone."_  
"I am an Ent. I am part of Fanghorn. I am never alone."  
 _"You can still be lonely."_  
"So can you."  
Faölin had no answer to that.

* * *

And so the colt set off from Fanghorn.  
It took him four days to reach the Misty Mountains, being very careful not to stray from the instructions given to him, because he didn't know this place yet, and he didn't really know what was out there, and what if there were others waiting to use him again.  
Faölin also discovered that he had difficulties avoiding the Elves of Rivendell, who seemed to be able to sense him. This, frankly, terrified him.

* * *

In his study, Elrond was hit with the sight of a beautiful midnight black colt carefully picking it's way through their forest, looking about as afraid as a horse could get. He was avoiding any Elves that attempted to locate him- it was clear that he was the power that they had all felt and were attempting to track. Elrond could feel no evil from him. Suddenly, the colt's-for they could only be his-thoughts could be heard. _'Please, please, I don't want to be enslaved again, don't let them catch me, Mother Hecate.'_

Opening his eyes to lock gazes with Glorfindel, who was clearly awaiting any orders that the vision might bring.  
"Call off the search for the power in the woods." came the quiet order. "He means no harm. We are causing the poor colt much fear. However, I think it would be best to meet with him, and I wish you to be there."  
"Shall I send word to ready the horses?"  
"No. That would cause him great distress. Do not bring any weapons that you cannot easily conceal."

* * *

They found the colt nibbling on some grass, furtively looking around as he did so.  
" _Suilad,_ _Mellon nîn._ " Elrond murmured in the same tone he used for the very rare elfling that he met.

The colt startled and leaped away, eyes widening in fear.  
"Peace." Glorfindel rumbled. "Lord Elrond and I mean you no harm."  
"I apologise if my people have frightened you, but we wished to know what the unknown making his way through our home was. My men will no longer search for you." Elrond continued soothingly, dropping to sit on the ground, to make himself less of a threat, motioning to his kinsman to do the same.

 _"If you have called off the searches, why do you come?"_ the colt replied cautiously, shocking them. It was like Galadriel all over again! His voice was like smooth honey.  
"We wondered why you came here if you were so afeared of others."  
 _"I was told that I would find the Great Eagles in the Misty Mountains."  
_ "Why would a colt be looking for the Great Eagles? We can take you to them, but we must ask if you mean them any harm."  
 _"An Inheritance from my Dam. I will speak no more on the matter, as it is private, but will raise the point that I do doubt that, even if I did mean them harm, I would be an easy defeat for ones such as the Great Eagles."_

Elrond nodded gently, hearing the undertones of fear and uncertainty beneath the firmness and bravery present in the 'voice'.  
"Your...Dam" Glorfindel stumbled over the strange word in an unknown language, a rarity for an elf "must be remarkable to have anything in common with the Great Eagles."  
The jewel-green eyes-never before had either of them seen such eyes in any being-dimmed.  
 _"Yes. Dam-Mother-was incomparable."  
_ "Oh, little one." Elrond's expression became sad. "How long ago did your Mother's ship sail?"  
 _"Many years ago."_ Came the mournful reply. _"But it's okay! Dam is with Aunt Hela now! Aunt Hela will take care of Dam!"_ he continued n a slightly happier tone, his ears perking.  
"What of your Father?" Glorfindel interjected. At this, the colt seemed to scowl, and stamped his hoof angrily, tossing his head a little.  
 _"Sire left before Dam birthed me, but not by choice, out of necessity and love for us. He met Dam when he had managed to escape from the cruel monster who dares call himself Grandsire's Sire. He forces Sire to bear him upon his back, enslaves him with an enchanted bridle. Sire ran when he realised he would be recaptured, because..."_ here the colt faltered, his head hanging.  
"Because if you and your Dam were discovered in connection to him and with your mother being as...incomparable as you state, you both would be enslaved as well." Glorfindel realised bitterly.  
 _"Correct. I...do not even know if Sire is still alive. Odin Allfather would not have taken what he saw as insubordination lightly. Grandsire, from what Dam told me, was no match for the man who declares to be his Sire. If he was, my Kin would be free."_

"Your Kin?" Elrond asked.  
 _"Sire was not the only child Grandsire had. I do not know why, exactly, but Odin took them as threats to himself, his Wife Queen Frigga, and his Blood Son, Crown Prince Thor. My Uncle Fenrir is chained in Darkness, with a sword through his muzzle. My Uncle_ _Jörmungandr was banished to the seas and can encircle the world I lived in with his length-so the stories say-, and my Aunt Hela was forced to become the Queen of Death, and is forever confined to her realm and home. I have not seen Kin for many, many Winters."_

"What is your name, youngling? And your parents names?" the Elf Lord probed gently, tucking the names away in his mind, noting to warn his people from approaching these Royals if they were ever encountered, and to discover those harmed by them and help them if at all possible.  
 _"_ _Faölin, Lord Elrond. Dam was named for a Flower, a Lily. Sire's name is Sleipnir, and I have no knowledge of the meaning of his name."_

* * *

The two regal Elves led the wary colt through the forest to the foot of the Misty Mountains.  
"One moment, Faölin." Lord Elrond said gently, and brought a horn to his lips, and blew, long and loud.

Faölin shrieked and skittered away, shaking his head frantically, trying to ease the ringing in his ears.  
 _"Lord Elrond, bad! Sensitive ears!"_  
"I apologise unreservedly, Little One." came the apologetic reply, and both Elves noted that, when his mind wasn't fully on the surroundings or conversation, the youngling acted more like a Foal than a Colt.

A shriek was heard and a shadow fell over the trio. Not minutes later, Gwaihir landed in front of Elrond.  
"What is amiss, my friend?" the Eagle inquired, settling his ruffled feathers.  
"Now, Gwaihir, can I not call you simply to talk?" Elrond replied, pretending to be hurt, though his smile gave away the deception.  
"Of course. But you must admit, that has been rare in recent times."

"It is good to see you, Gwaihir." Glorfindel interjected. "However, it is not us that wishes to speak to you." he gestured to the side, where the Colt stood, looking somewhat wary. "This is Faölin. According to him, he is looking for you due to an Inheritance from is Mother, who has Sailed to Valinor long ago."  
"Well, littling, what is this Inheritance?" Gwaihir turned his attention to the nervous Colt.  
Carefully, mindful of the eyes upon him, Faölin opened his wings, letting them flutter gently.

" _Oh_." Glorfindel breathed. "Truly, your Mother must have been incomparable."  
"Can you fly any distance?" came the sharp question as soon as Gwaihir overcame his shock.  
" _A few metres, nothing more._ " came the slightly abashed reply. " _Dam would have taught me, as the Pegasi teach their Foals to fly as well as run. She was killed before she could move to flying._ "

"Pegasi?"  
 _"A race of horses with wings. Dam was a rare pure white Pegasus, from what I recall. I am not fully Pegasi, thus my wings are not feathered. Will this be a problem?"  
_ "No, the basics will be the same. Any problems there may be from our differences can certainly be overcome."

"The only problem I can see is that the Colt cannot stay with you in the Mountains whilst he learns." the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower pointed out.  
"You are welcome to stay in Imladris and the surrounding forests." the Lord of the Last Homely House informed Faölin warmly.  
" _I will stay in the forest, if you do not mind. I...have had bad experiences with two-leggers, and, no matter the slight differences in scent, I smelt Kin coming from your settlement._ "  
"They are well treated and not forced." Elrond informed him gently.  
" _Nonetheless. Sire was bridled. As was I, by those who wished to use me for their own gain. I have no wish to give anyone a chance to ever again._ "  
"Of course, Faölin. We understand."

" _I would also ask that you not tell anyone else of my existence. Those that you deem trustworthy are not my Trusted. I would not entrust your secrets to anyone else. Please extend the same courtesy._ "  
"Not a murmur shall pass my lips." Elrond promised


	3. Chapter 3

Faölin

"Westron"

" _Sindarin_ "

 _"Thought Speech"_

 **:Horse Speech:**

 ** _Memories_**

* * *

 **Chapter Three.**

Faölin made his new home in a cave close to the base of the mountain where he first met Gwaihir. Much to his ire, his lessons proceeded slowly, as the Eagle would not allow him to push himself too far too fast, and monitored how much he flew each day. The years passed slowly as he progressed in his flying abilities, and was soon declared an able flyer and competent enough to not need monitoring during flight, by Gwaihir. The Colt did not take offence to this haughty judgement of his skills, knowing Gwaihir well by that time, and understanding that this was his teacher's way of ensuring that he did not get a swelled head.

Elrond and Glorfindel visited him monthly, and the small group quickly discovered that Faölin had inherited his lifespan from his Sire, at a guess, as he aged slowly- around the level of the Dunedain.  
Their conversations varied largely in topics, from the state of Middle Earth, the lives and culture of the Elves- the two were quite happy to describe Imladris to him-, and many other topics. Rohan was brought up, and the two Elf Lords would admit to amusement when Faölin reacted in horror to the idea that the people there would revere him. This amusement was quick to fade when the Colt explained that he had been revered before- by those who would offer him up as a sacrifice, and ignored the pain and suffering he had endured.  
Several of their conversations ended with Faölin shakily asking his two friends to leave, after failed attempts at coaxing him out to see Imladris for himself, to help him realise that not everyone would enslave him.

* * *

The most memorable event to happen to Faölin in the years following his journey to the Misty Mountains for tutelage occurred one bright morning when he was searching the ground a ways from his cave for apples, as he had eaten all of the closer ones.  
The Colt had just spotted a nice, shiny apple on the ground, when he heard a faint sniffle, and then a whimpering sound. Stopping, Faölin pricked his ears up to listen, because that was no sound of any animal he knew.

Tracking the sound to a hollow tree, he carefully poked his nose in the hole at its base, and came nose-to-nose with a little elf-face. Female. Dark hair, and tears running down her cheeks.  
Faölin recognised Arwen instantly. How could he not? Every chance he got, Elrond waxed poetically about his little _Elleth_. Screwing up his courage- this is a child, you can handle this- the Colt gently pushed his mind forwards, and murmured gently _"Sulliad, Mellon Nin._ "

Arwen gasped and, thankfully, crawled out of the hollow. Forcing himself to his knees, Faölin allowed the Elfling to clamber upon his back, and grip tight handfuls of his mane. At his grunt when he stood and her grip pulled out a few hairs, she loosened her grip, only to get a reprimanding snort which made her re-tighten her grip.

Slowly and carefully, he made his way in the direction of Imladris, knowing that whoever was supposed to be minding her would likely cross his path before he reached his destination.

* * *

Well. Her minders turned out to be her older brothers...Elladan and...Elrohir, he thought Elrond had said. One of the twins taking the Elfling from his back had been difficult to cope with, but when the other had reached for his head, he had bolted. Now he was back in his cave, shivering in shock and fear, pushing back his memories as best he could.

* * *

Elrond and Glorfindel came to his cave the next day.  
 _"How fares the Littling?"_ Faölin asked quietly. _"She did not appear to be injured, though very upset."  
_ "She is fine, my friend." Elrond reassured him quickly. "My sons pass on their thanks, and give their apologies for scaring you."

"We had to give them an explanation as to who you were, vague though we may have kept it. They know not to seek you out. You are safe."  
 _"My thanks."_  
"None necessary." Elrond waved his thanks aside. "Truly though, Faölin, thank you for bearing Arwen. I realise how hard it must have been for you."  
 _"Your Elfling is too small to be a threat to me!"_ The reply was forcibly amused, though the tremors running through the Colt belied his careless attitude.


	4. Chapter 4

Faölin

"Westron"

" _Sindarin_ "

 _"Thought Speech"_

 **:Horse Speech:**

 ** _Memories/Divine Speech_**

 _'Thoughts'_

* * *

 ** _Years and Years Later: The beginning of the Fellowship of the Ring._**

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

Faölin was galloping through the woods as fast as he could go. He'd awoken to the pervading sense of Evil in his Woods, and, carried on the wind to him, was the cry of an Elf he had borne many years ago.

He arrived at the edge of the thicket he was in to see a horse botch a jump by going too fast, sending his rider and companion to the ground. Feeling the Evil approaching, the Stallion- for that was what he was now- slowed to a halt at the fallen party's side.

 _"Arwen."_ he greeted the lady softly. She gasped, recognising the honeyed voice that entered her mind, and the form before her.  
"Faölin." The Elleth breathed, her eyes wide. She winced as she shifted, lifting the small figure who reeked of Wrongness.  
 _"You are endangering yourself again. Elrond will never allow you to leave Imladris at this rate. Can I be of service?"_

"Frodo." came the quick reply. "I am injured- my arm- and Asfaloth has cut his leg and cannot run. Please, he needs _Ada's_ healing, or he will die. He also bears something the Nazgul will chase him to the end of Arda for. Bearing him runs a great risk. They will be focused on you and only you- I will not be in danger. Once you get past the river, you will be safe. Those twisted beings must get into the river for at least a minute for the plan to work, do you understand?"

After a few tense seconds, the little being rose out of Arwen's arms, and, once safely positioned on Faölin's back, smooth ropes bound him to the horse, in a way that would not restrict the Stallion.  
As soon as the little not-human was secure on his back, Faölin burst into action, leaping forward, away from the approaching Evil.

He pounded towards Rivendell, the Evil attempting to gain on him, though they were unable to as the Wizard-Horse began to channel his Magic into his legs, something he had been practising for a while now (It tired him faster, though it made him almost as fast as he imagined his Sire to be). Behind him, the Ringwraiths shrieked, forcing their poor mounts faster than what was good for them.

His instincts _screaming_ at him, the Stallion too pushed himself farther than he should, splashing through the river and stopping on the other side, ignoring the tremors tearing through his body.

 **:Bring them into the River!:** he pleaded to the destroyed Kin that he knew in his heart could not survive these Masters of theirs.  
 **:Tired.:** came the pained reply from the lead horse. **:So tired.:  
** **:I know.:** Faölin choked a reply. **:Enslavement drains you.:  
** **:Will we be free?:** the smallest asked. **:We are dying, Prince. Will stepping into the river give us Death? Make us free again?:  
** **:Aunt Hela will accept you into Helheim if Mandos does not accept you into his Halls.:** came the broken reply. **:Yes. Stepping into the River will see you free.:**

With a breaking heart, Faölin watched as his Kin doggedly stepped into the river as fast as they could, ignoring the shrieks of their riders and the torment they gave, standing and waiting for their pain to end.

 **:We will keep them here:** the leader of the group informed his distraught Prince. **:Run. Run My Prince, and do not look back. Go to the Elves and inform them that the Evil One is rising yet again.:**

With a scream of anguish, the Stallion obeyed the gentle plea hidden in the command.

* * *

Faölin galloped into Imladris. Glorfindel, who was pacing in the courtyard in front of a large building, froze when he saw his exhausted friend, before leaping to his side as the ropes holding Frodo dissipated.

 _"Get him to Elrond."_ Faölin said exhaustedly. _"I shall wait here until you return to take me somewhere I can rest. Fear not for Arwen. Once I took the not-human, she was safe. Asfaloth lives also."_

Frowning at the disjointed manner of his speech, Glorfindel rushed Frodo to his Lord, hurriedly spilling out what little he knew of the situation, before returning to the courtyard, where Faölin was swaying slightly as he strove to stay awake, much to the Warrior's concern.

 _"Mellon nin?"_ he asked worriedly.  
 _"I have no strength to get home."_ The Stallion informed him shakily. _"Yet I must rest and recover. No stables, please, Glorfindel?"  
_ "Of course not!" Glorfindel agreed vehemently. "Come, Faölin, we shall settle you in Elrond's private garden, and food and water shall be brought."

* * *

As he eased to the ground beneath a tree in the garden, Faölin remembered _"The Enslaved of the Ringwraiths had a final message for me to pass on."  
_ "What message would your kin give us?" the Golden Lord frowned.

 _"The Evil One is rising yet again."_

The Stallion slipped into an exhausted sleep as his friend shuddered at the confirmation of all that they had feared.

* * *

Aragorn inhaled sharply as he and the Hobbits came upon the white form of Asfaloth, and before he knew what he was doing, he was at Arwen's side, running her hands over her, cursing when he discovered her broken arm.

"Mister Frodo!" Sam cried in terror as he futilely looked for his master. A new, icy terror swept through Aragorn, and he gripped his beloved's unbroken hand tightly, locking his gaze with hers, desperately questioning.

"Fear not for Frodo Baggins." the Elleth reassured, a soft smile upon her lips. "A friend of my _Ada's_ came upon me and bore him to Imladris in my place, far faster than I could ever hope to."

 _Who?_ Aragorn wondered silently, trusting Arwen to know of what she spoke as the Hobbits calmed.

"I can walk, as can Asfaloth, but some help would be greatly appreciated."  
Instantly, she was in his arms, cradled to his chest. Gasping, she slapped at his chest. _"Put me down!"_ she commanded, though love danced in her eyes. _"I can walk, fool! But Asfaloth will need help to walk. You will help him."_

 _"Arwen"_ Aragorn protested instantly.  
 _"No! The Hobbits will be no help to him. If I need assistance, the Hobbits can support me. You are allowing your emotions to cloud you."_

Sighing, the man carefully set her down. "Sam, Merry, Pippin, you will stay by Arwen and support her if necessary. I will help Asfaloth. Come, the sooner we start moving, the sooner we will get to Rivendell."

* * *

Glorfindel was upon them the instant they stepped into Rivendell, an expression of pure relief on his face.

"Oh, thank the Valar!" he cried, checking the group over quickly and thoroughly. "If you ever scare us like that again, Arwen, we will confine you to Imladris for the rest of your days! And Estel! Truly it is wondrous to see you so well!" pausing, he turned to the worried Hobbits with a reassuring smile. "Fear not for Frodo Baggins, he is well tended under Lord Elrond's considerable Healing prowess."

"Who brought Frodo here?" Pippin asked "we need to thank him."  
"Ah." The joyous expression faded. "He collapsed as soon as he felt safe. Foolish Littling, pushing himself far too far."

Asfaloth snorted, stamping one of his good legs. The Hobbits stared. Could...could he understand them? The big Elf seemed to think so, as he stared at the horse, a small frown on his features.  
"Asfaloth, if you have your leg attended to, I will take you to Faölin so you may watch over him for us."  
Clearly, the horse agreed, because he clopped forward to lean on the Elf, who chuckled and took his reins from Aragorn.  
"Your Master Frodo is in the Infirmary. You may wait outside until Lord Elrond has finished attending to him. Estel, see that Arwen's arm is healed."

* * *

When Faölin awoke, still too tired to move, an apple was nudged towards his mouth by Asfaloth, who was lying opposite him.  
 **:Thank you, Asfaloth.:** he said tiredly. **:Forgive me, but where am I? I recall making it into Rivendell and Glorfindel taking the little not-human, but everything after that is a blur. I'm not in the stables, am I?:** he asked, panicked.

The older Stallion quickly made to reassure him. **:No, My Prince, you are not in the stables- you are, in fact, in Lord Elrond's private garden. Glorfindel brought you here to rest, and I have been watching over you since I and Arwen returned with the help of Estel and the other Hobbits.:  
** **:Hobbits? Oh...that was what the little being was! Mosscoat told me a little of them.:** Faölin recalled. **:Stout-hearted little creatures, from what I recall of his teachings.:**

Shaking himself, he asked **:How fare you, Asfaloth? Has your leg been attended to?:**  
 **:Fear not for me, My Prince. My leg has been attended to, though I will not be running for many sun-turns yet.:  
** **:I can heal what they cannot.:** he quickly offered.  
 **:What you must do, is rest. Your Magic-Spirit is regaining itself- do not attempt to drain it again just yet.:** came the gentle reproach.  
 **:Yes, Asfaloth:** Faölin replied obediently, eating the apple and slipping back into the healing slumber.

* * *

Upon reaching the entrance to Elrond's private garden, Gandalf was surprised to find his way blocked by Elrohir and Elladan, who were wearing unusually serious expressions for their faces to bear outside of battle.  
"May I pass, friends?"  
"No." They chorused in unison.  
"Why ever not?" the old Istar asked, genuinely stunned at being refused.  
"Faölin neither knows nor trusts you. You have no knowledge of him, how to act around him. You would simply barge in there and cause further damage to the dear Stallion that has come to the aid of our Beloved Sister twice."  
"I would not harm him." Gandalf protested.

"Gandalf."  
Flinching slightly, he turned to face the cool eyes of Glorfindel.  
"A suggestion. Release Shadowfax. He will go to my friend." what was not said was that the mighty steed would like as not warn Faölin of the Grey Wizard's attitude when it came to his own security, and inform him of his kidnapping of Shadowfax. "Leave him be. If you do not, I am sure I, Elrond, and Gwaihir can...correct your behaviours."  
"We would be happy to provide you with instruction as well, _Mithrandir_." Elrohir added, with a perfectly polite smile that was at the same time threatening.

* * *

Shadowfax walked as quietly as he could into the garden, stopping as Asfaloth moved into view between him and the low-hanging tree at the foot of the garden where a black form lay motionless, much to his disquiet.  
 **:How fares the Prince?:** he asked as quietly as he could.  
 **:He awoke long enough to eat an apple, and hold a short conversation. He rests more peacefully now.:**  
 **:** **Béma be praised.:** the Stallion said, clearly relieved.  
 **:Indeed.:**

 **:Gandalf is a fool if he thinks I am going to coax him into the graces of our Prince.:** Shadowfax snorted disdainfully as the two Stallions lay between Faölin and the entrance.  
 **:Why did you allow him to kidnap you, let alone mount you?:  
** **:Because, Middle Earth will need all the support it can amass in the coming struggle. And I would never turn down any chance to meet the Prince.:  
** **:True enough.:** Asfaloth conceded.

 **:The entrance to the garden is presently being protected by the male foals of the Lord of Rivendell.:  
** **:Elladan and Elrohir?:** Asfaloth nickered lightly in amusement. **:Tricksters though they may be, they are serious when it comes to defending their Family and Innocents.:**

 **:They sound like Grandsire.:** Faölin entered the conversation, admittedly only half-awake. **:From what Dam told me, Grandsire is Mischief personified, is so very cunning and in possession of the sharpest of minds- he is not called Silvertongue for nothing. From what little was told of him, he is the sort of person who would let Midgard burn if it would lead to any chance of freedom and protection for the Family.:  
** **:What little was told?:** the Meras questioned. **:Oh, forgive me, My Prince. My name is Shadowfax. I am of the Meras. It is an honour to meet you.:  
** **:And for me to meet you, Shadowfax. In answer to your question, the tales passed from Asgard to Midgard tended only to mention Grandsire in a vague position of support to Crown Prince Thor, or...many revelled in the torments that were oft heaped upon Grandsire for even the slightest thing.:**

Asfaloth tossed his head, managing to keep his furious cry to a somewhat strangled hiss. **:Barbaric people, to fawn at the pain of another greater than themselves.:  
** **:The Asgardians are not...they have never been...kind, in any form towards my Kin.:** Faölin said haltingly. **:The only one who could possibly be declared so would be Queen Frigga. Heimdallr is...indifferent. He serves only the King...or the Norns. I have never been certain about him.:  
:Indeed.:** Shadowfax agreed sombrely, readying himself to turn the conversation to the reason for his presence.

 **:My** **Prince.:** the elder spoke heavily. **:Do you know anything of Gandalf the Grey?:  
** Tilting his head, Faölin replied after a moment of thought. **:Yes, all my friends and mentors here have mentioned him. A well intentioned man, if a little too sure of himself, and...somewhat manipulative when he feels such a thing is needed. I do not like manipulators. Why do you ask?:  
:Because Gandalf stole me from Rohan and rode me here. He released me with orders to endear him to you. This I refuse to do. I hold no loyalty towards the Istar. I do, however, hold loyalty to you Prince ****Faölin, and to your Sire and Kin. Beyond that, my loyalty is to Rohan and Middle Earth.:**

Faölin, who had stiffened at the Meras's explanation and warning, found that, by the end, if he had been in Human form, he would have been blushing at the heartfelt declaration of loyalty.  
 **:Thank you, Shadowfax.:** he paused **:What would you suggest for dealing with him should it ever come to that?:  
:Be polite, but distant.:** came the advice. **:Make your opinions and positions in situations clear. Avoid him if you feel it necessary, but try not to be too obvious about it.:**  
The Stallion nodded silently, understanding the sense in the Elder's advice.

Asfaloth and Shadowfax moved to stand between their Prince and the entrance to the garden when they heard the gate open. Both knew that the twins were on guard, but they would not let _their_ guard down until they saw who was entering. Faölin tensed where he lay, readying himself to move if necessary.  
Elrond and Glorfindel stepped into sight, smiling gentle, soothing smiles to help the trio relax.  
"Well Met, Asfaloth, Shadowfax." Elrond greeted, Glorfindel copying him. "May I pass to see to Faölin?" he enquired.  
 **:If you would let them pass?:** came the quiet request from behind them **:Elrond and Glorfindel are the few two-leggers I trust at present. They will not harm me.:**

With permission clearly granted as the two Stallions move back, though still flanked Faölin, the Healer moved forward to check his young friend over carefully.  
"Well, my friend, a little more rest and food-" here he turned a pointed gaze to the hay and apples to the side "- and you will regain your full strength."  
 _"Thank you Elrond."_ Faölin said softly. _"How fares the Littling and Arwen?"  
_ "Arwen's arm will take a while to heal, though she is in no danger. Frodo, on the other hand...I will never condone you exhausting yourself so, but in this case I will admit that, had Asfaloth been the one to carry him to safety, I would have not been able to heal him as well as I could, for you gained him much time before he would be lost."  
 _"Then my exhaustion was worthwhile."_ the Stallion declared staunchly. _"And you have little reason to fear, Friends. I am not so young anymore that depletion of my Core endangers my life greatly."_

There was a heavy, stunned pause.  
 _'I need to keep my thoughts in check.'_ Faölin berated himself internally, quailing slightly as his Elf-friends faces showed anger and horror, and his new Horse-friends became very still.  
 _"Nan aear ar in elin!"_ Glorfindel exploded. _"Did you not think that we should have been informed of such a possibility?"_ he asked/scolded in place of a frozen Lord of Imladris.  
 _"I...I never thought-"  
"Precisely my point! You did not think! This information is clearly linked to your wellbeing and health! As your friends- As Elrond is the only one you trust to attend to any ills that befall you- we should have been informed, __Faölin Sleipnirson!"_ the Golden Lord ranted, using the full name that he had taught them in his Colt-hood.  
 **:Prince** **Faölin!:** Shadowfax joined in, equally horrified **:You could have caused yourself grave harm! How are we to help you when you are in need of aid if we are unaware of such dangers to you!:**

 **:ENOUGH.:** Asfaloth declared loudly, stamping a hoof angrily. **:See what your shouting has done to our Prince!:**

And indeed, Faölin was attempting to make himself as small as possible, and shaking steadily, his ears back. Fortunately, Asfaloth's intervention (though the Elves couldn't understand him) stopped the angry rebukes and halted the flashback that had been stirring in the young Stallion.  
 _"Ai, Me_ _llon nîn!"_ Elrond gasped, gently, carefully reaching out to card a soothing hand through his young friend's coat. "Forgive us our outbursts, Dear One."  
 _"You meant no harm- all is forgiven."_ came the muted assurance.  
"However, the point of our upset still stands." Glorfindel felt the need to point out, albeit more gently than he had before. "The fact that draining your Core could have killed you in the past, and may still lead to your death if you push yourself still further, is something you aught have informed us of. Elrond as your Healer, and I and Asfaloth and Shadowfax as your friends."  
 _"I'm sorry."_ Faölin said in a small voice, clearly ashamed of himself.  
 **:Peace, Dear Prince.:** Shadowfax soothed, moving to position himself behind his smaller Prince, and beginning to nibble on his mane in a gesture of an elder to a youngling. **:Our reactions were out of turn, and well deserved the rebuke delivered by Asfaloth. On that point, my friend, thank you.:  
** **:Someone needed to knock some sense into you.:** Asfaloth snorted, also lying down.

With the situation handled, Elrond returned to assuring himself of Faölin's wellbeing. Finding himself satisfied, the two Elves left with instructions to the Stallions to ensure that Faölin ate and rested.  
"We cannot stay." Elrond explained apologetically. "We have guests arriving for the Council concerning the Ring. Some of which happen to be Dwarves. Inevitable incidents must be halted at the very most, and dealt with at the very least."  
 _"You poor Elf."_ came the amused, faintly sarcastic reply. _"Perhaps you could simply give them an area for their stay and avoid it as much as politely possible?"_  
"The idea has merit!" Glorfindel declared hopefully, turning pleading eyes to Elrond, who was now laughing quietly. "Is it possible to do so, Elrond?"  
"Sadly, I do not belive it would befit us to do so." Elrond replied with a conciliatory smile, though merriment was clear in his eyes. "We must be polite to our guests, _Mellon_ _nîn._ "  
"Alas, so it must be." came the mournful reply.  
"Oh, Faölin...the Council is to have a member of each Race in attendance- Gwaihir is attending as well, and Rohan is not sending a representative for some reason. I was hoping...you are a Horse, and a Pegasus- the only Pegasus on Middle Earth. You would be safe, of that I assure you- Gwaihir, myself and Glorfindel would be present." Elrond tacked on quickly.

In the ensuing silence, Shadowfax spoke. **:My Prince, the Lord's request is a sensible one. Your safety is assured, and it will be a chance to meet those of other Races. However, I feel that representing two Races is not fair on you, so I offer myself as a representative of Rohan and the Horses.:  
** **:I will be present to support the both of you.:** Asfaloth declared firmly.

 _"You understand, that if I do attend this Council, you will, like as not, not see me for some time afterwards."_ the young Stallion warned.  
"Of course, Dear Friend." Glorfindel nodded. "You do not even need to be there until the Council officially starts, and can leave the instant a conclusion is reached."

The two Stallions turned their attention to ensuring that their Prince ate and drank, mother-henning him. Much to their amusement, once he was full, his eyes began to droop, and within seconds he was asleep.

* * *

"Strangers of distant Lands, Friends of Old, we have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor." Elrond declared as the Council began, sparing a moment to smile softly at the edge of the Council where Asfaloth, Shadowfax and Faölin stood, as of yet unnoticed- largely due to the Notice-Me-Not the Stallion had managed to weave over the three.  
"Middle Earth stands on the brink of destruction, and none can escape it. We will unite or we will fall. Each Race is bound to this Fate, this one Doom." Pausing to gather himself, not missing the look exchanged between Estel and Legolas, he continued "Bring forth The Ring, Frodo."

Everyone watched as the Hobbit slowly moves forward, gently, cautiously placing the ring on the plinth. There was an outbreak of murmurs, and a gasped "So it is true" from Boromir of Gondor. Frodo himself returned to his seat next to Gandalf with a sigh, clearly relieved to be free of the Dark Object.

Almost in opposition to the Hobbit's actions, Boromir rose, and announced "It is a gift. A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring?" he asked as h paced before the Council. "Long has my Father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the Enemy. Let us use it against him!"

"You cannot wield it." Aragorn quickly rebuffed the idea before it could take hold in anyone. "None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other Master."  
"And what would a _Ranger_ know of this matter?" Boromir sneered at him. All eyes turned to Legolas Thrandullion as he stood angrily, clearly to defend his friend.  
"This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance." the Prince spat.

Faölin started at this new information.  
 **:Lord Elrond raised him.:** Asfaloth informed his Prince. **:Among the Elves, his name is Estel.:**

"Aragorn?" the Gondorian spluttered, his eyes wide. "This… is Isildur's heir?" It was clear to Faölin that the man found the Heir...lacking.  
"And Heir to the throne of Gondor." Legolas happily drove his metaphorical sword home.  
" _Sit down, Legolas._ " Aragorn requested quietly.  
"Gondor has no King. Gondor needs no King." Boromir declared stubbornly as he sat.  
 **:Pouting child.:** Shadowfax snorted derisively, causing the others to snicker quietly.

"Aragorn is right. We cannot use it." Gandalf stated firmly, bringing the Council back to it's purpose.  
"You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed." Elrond laid the fact before the council. Before anyone else could speak, one of the Dwarves leaped to his feet, grabbing his axe and approaching the pedestal.  
"What are we waiting for?" he questioned, and, before anyone had the chance to stop him, swung his axe as hard as possible down onto the Ring. However, he was thrown back by the Ring, which began to whisper darkness into the minds of the Council. The axe was shattered.

Faölin shrieked as the Darkness attempted to penetrate his mind, rearing up in upset. Naturally, all attention turned to him as the Stallion threw the Darkness out of his mind.  
Elrond, knowing his friend would be hating the attention, and hating himself for bringing it, turned to the foolish, stunned Dwarf, and scolded him. "The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came!" he sighed. "One of you must do this."

Surprising everyone, Boromir raised several reasonable points. "One does not simply _walk_ into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. And the great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly!"  
However, this pessimistic ending to his speech served to irritate Legolas, who again rose to confront him.  
"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!"

Naturally, it was Gimli who spoke up. "And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?!" he asked angrily.  
The Gondorian and Elf ignored him. "And if we fail, what then?! What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?!"  
"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!" The Son of Gloin continued, clearly irritated at being ignored. This sent the other Elves into an uproar, and the Dwarves leapt to support their Kinsman. "Never trust an Elf!"

Gandalf also rose. "Do you not understand that while we bicker among ourselves, Sauron's power grows?! None can escape it!"  
 **:Fool.:** Asfaloth snorted. **:As if saying something like that will stop a fight between an Elf and a Dwarf.:**  
At Gandalf's statement, the entire council devolved into yelling. Rather proving Shadowfax right.

Irritated, Gwaihir shrieked, silencing the bickering. "ENOUGH!" he berated the Council. "You squabbling fools! You are harder to corral than chicks!"  
"I will take it! I will take it!" Frodo declared bravely into the ensuing silence, then faltered. "Though...I do not know the way."  
With a heavy sigh, Gandalf moved forward and placed a hand on the Hobbit's shoulder. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, so long as it is yours to bear."  
Aragorn knelt before the clearly afraid youngling. "If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will. You have my sword."  
"And you have my bow." Legolas declared staunchly, joining the group.  
"And my axe!" came the quick addition of Gimli, clearly unwilling to be outdone in any way by an Elf.  
 **:Yes.:** Asfaloth noted slowly **:His shattered axe. How useful.:**  
"You carry the fates of us all little one. If this is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done." Boromir declared heavily, slowly moving to join them.

"Heh!" A Hobbit rushed from behind some bushes. "Mr. Frodo is not goin' anywhere without me!"  
"No indeed," Elrond noted, amused "it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not." The rounder one flushed slightly, but held firm.  
Two more Hobbits emerged. "Wait! We're coming too!" they declared.  
"You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" One informed the Council.  
"Anyway you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission, quest… thing." The other said.  
"Well that rules you out Pip." the first of the two snorted.

Shadowfax seemed to be torn by something, his ears flickering.  
 **:Shadowfax? What troubles you so?:** Faölin enquired softly.  
 **:This group will need aid in their travels. With your permission, My Lord Prince, I would serve as the steed for Isildur's Heir.:  
** **:I myself would be unable to do so...however, I will not bar you from bearing him.:**

With permission granted, Shadowfax moved forward, his hooves clicking on the stones, until he reached Aragorn, nudging the man gently.  
"Shadowfax?" the Dunedain frowned softly.  
"It would appear, my Son, that Shadowfax wishes to aid you in your Quest, and intends to bear you for as long as is needed." Elrond smiled, then grew serious. "Nine companions… So be it! You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"  
"Great!" One Hobbit, the one called Pip by his friend, said cheerfully. "Where are we going?"

* * *

"Father?"  
Elrond looked up as Estel entered his study, closing the door behind him.  
"Estel." he greeted. He did not press, merely adopted a questioning expression.  
"Who is Faölin?" came the quiet question.  
"Where did you hear that name?" Elrond asked, stunned.  
"I was speaking to Gandalf about Shadowfax- apparently he is why the Last of the Meras is here. Glorfindel interjected, and they began arguing. Gandalf was attempting to cajole access to someone called Faölin. Glorfindel's temper rose with each attempt, though Mithrandir seemed oblivious. Fortunately, Pippin distracted Gandalf." the man hesitated. "From what little I could understand of their to-ing and fro-ing, this Faölin is somehow a Lord to Shadowfax?"

"I and Glorfindel met Faölin, many, many years ago. Slowly, we formed a friendship with him. He lives in the woods surrounding Imladris. I would ask you not to attempt to seek him out, for his sake of mind and wishes. You can ask Arwen for more details on him if you wish- she was lost in the woods as an Elfling and he stumbled upon her and returned her to the twins, regardless of his terror for people. He also helped her more recently- he carried Frodo, Estel."

"You are hiding something." the Dunedain narrowed his eyes. " _Ada_...what is he?"  
"Aragorn-"  
"I do not mean him harm, _Ada_. In fact, if possible, I would thank him for coming to Arwen's aid- twice."  
"... Faölin came from...somewhere else- no, Estel, I will not elaborate- and his Grandfather is a deity there- the God of Magic and Mischief. His eldest son, Sleipnir, is Faölin's Father."  
"And?" Estel pressed, not giving up.  
"His form is that of a Horse." Elrond sighed, giving in as his adopted child sat back, his eyes wide. "The dear Stallion communicates mentally, in a similar form to that of Lady Galadriel. He does not, however, press into your mind quite so presumptuously."

"That does rather explain how he is Shadowfax's Lord." Aragorn mused. "Is this why the Twins have been guarding your garden so fervently, _Ada_?"  
"He exhausted himself, and witnessing his kin sacrifice themselves to halt the Ringwraiths took a further toll on him. I believe Faölin intends to leave once the Council is dispersed."  
"Is there any possibility of an audience with him?" came the cautious request. "I would thank him for Arwen, and for Frodo."  
"As you have actually asked, and not attempted to force the matter as Gandalf has, then I will see if my friend will grant your request."

Aragorn winced. "Mithrandir will not be granted an audience, will he?"  
"With the way he is acting?" Elrond let lose a derisive snort. "He would have more luck stopping Sauron and the Ringwraiths alone."  
"Aye."

* * *

"I will be heading to the Eyries now." Gwaihir informed the young stallion. The two were in the garden- Asfaloth and Shadowfax had returned to the stables, Shadowfax to prepare for the quest, and Asfaloth to rest his leg.  
 _"I will see you soon, my friend."_ Faölin informed the Great Eagle.  " _As soon as the way is clear and safe, I too will be heading home."_  
"'Tis for the best. You are on edge here." the bird nodded in understanding.  
Faölin snorted. _"Aye, and I will be far less so once the Grey Istari is no longer a-hovering."_  
"He is foolish. Oh, he is no Saruman, but his standing in society has swelled his head considerably."  
 _"I have seen it before. The one I knew looked very like the Istari, which...really does not help matters, to be truthful."_  
"I can see why it would not. Farewell, my Student."  
 _"Farewell, my Teacher."_ came the reply as the Eagle beat his wings, easily taking to the air.

Alone in the garden, Faölin ambled around, being careful to stay on the grass and not damage any of Elrond's plants. He was just gently grazing the grass when the gate opened and familiar footsteps sounded upon the path.  
 _"Elrond."_ Faölin greeted softly. _"I thought you said you were going to be trapped by paperwork all day?"_  
"Indeed, that was my plan for the day. However, my son visited me in my study." Moving to a low stone bench beneath a tree, Elrond sat down.  
 _"Estel, or one of the Twins?"_  
"Estel. Apparently, he overheard an argument between Gandalf and Glorfindel about you, and came to me for clarification on some points which confused him. Largely, how you could be Shadowfax's Lord."  
 _"I see...what did you tell him?"_  
"Unfortunately, Estel is...persistent. In the end, I vaguely explained that your Grandfather was a God, that your form is a Horse, and that twice you have came to the aid of Arwen. He passes on his thanks and swears not to reveal your secrets."

 _"Ah...He wishes to see me in person, does he not?"_  
"It was requested, though he will not force it as _Mithrandir_ attempts to."  
 _"Why will he not stop?"_  
"He is...unused to being told no, as one of the Maiar."  
 _"Arrogance does not become one of his learning and standing."_ Faölin sighed. _"I will meet with Estel, though it will prolong the length of time you do not see me for. I wish for you and Glorfindel to be present- I will be uncomfortable meeting him alone. Please ask your son if he would be so kind as to not bear any weapons."_

* * *

Aragorn took a deep breath, smiled nervously at his older brothers, and followed his _Ada_ and Glorfindel into the garden.

The Stallion standing under a tree at the far end of the garden was stunning. His black coat gleamed, and his eyes were the colour of every piece of greenery in Arda at their most vibrant.  
"Greetings, Lord Faölin." Carefully, he bowed to the horse.  
 _"Greetings, Estel, son of Elrond. I am_ _Faölin Sleipnirson. There is no need to address me as Lord."  
_ Aragorn jerked slightly at the voice. Though he had been informed of the Stallion's method of communication, it was so different from Lady Galadariel's in that it was liquid honey, and he did not rifle through his mind as the Lady did, merely presented his voice into your mind.

"I would thank you for twice saving Arwen, and for bearing Frodo to Imladris." he replied, pulling himself back to the conversation.  
 _"It was nothing. Both times Arwen managed to get herself into a dangerous situation, and the Littling was fading fast."_

"Yes...she does that." Aragorn admitted ruefully. "Which does give my thanks more meaning."  
 _"Your Ada is my friend. I could hardly allow harm to befall his daughter."_

"Enough of that." Elrond advised, moving to a bench and sitting, followed by Glorfindel, an action which Aragorn copied. "Estel, Faölin does not accept praise, regardless of whether he deserves it or not."  
"Ah." his son nodded. "I see that now."  
"Well then, you are sharper than us!" Glorfindel interjected with a rueful smile. "It took us far longer to understand."

 _"Shadowfax will bear you for your Quest."_ Faölin said, his tone serious enough to gain all of Aragorn's attention.  
"Yes, he has offered."  
 _"As he allows you upon his back, you will treat him with all due respect, will you not?"_ The threat hidden in the question was clear.  
"Of course I will!" the Dunedain exclaimed, somewhat offended.

"Estel." Elrond soothed quickly "our friend only speaks in care for his kin, and in knowledge of cruel enslavement himself." He chided.  
"Oh." Aragorn breathed, wincing, "I do no harm to none but creatures of Sauron and Saruman." He declared.  
 _"It is well then."_ the Stallion bowed his head. _"Like as not, Shadowfax will return to Rohan when the Ring is dealt with. He may have left somewhat willingly, but it is still his home."  
_ "Somewhat willingly?" Aragorn wondered.  
 _"Your Grey Istari saw fit to kidnap him. My friend complied as he knew the situation, but nonetheless..."_ Faölin trailed off, irritably.

Closing his eyes, the Dunedain winced. Now he knew why Gandalf had not been granted audience with this wondrous Stallion. His _Ada_ had said that Lord Faölin had undergone cruel enslavement. Forcing Shadowfax to bear him...  
"I would apologise for him if I thought it would mean anything." He said quietly.  
 _"Do not apologise for something beyond your control, that others have done."_ Came the flat reply. _"It does none any good."_

* * *

Aragorn sighed as he left the garden, escorted out again by his _Ada_ and Glorfindel.  
"You seem stunned, Brother Dear." Elrohir observed, amused. A slight flick of his eyes highlighted Gandalf just visible around a corner.  
"Lord Faölin is...incredible." He finally settled on. "I do not believe I will ever be able to forget the audience he granted me."  
"You thanked him for saving Arwen, did you not? The first time...he did not give us the chance to thank him directly." Elladan inquired.  
"Of course I did. He does not see it as something he should be thanked for."

"I told you he would not." Elrond interjected wryly.  
"He is very selfless."  
"No. He is unused to being seen as important and worth care." Glorfindel corrected sombrely.  
"What did they do to him?" Aragorn wondered tentatively.  
"Too much. Far too much hurt was bestowed upon him." came the grave reply.  
"Were they punished?"  
"Unfortunately, no, though one of great power did declare that some would be so."  
"Well, there is that, at least."

"I have the urge to go to Shadowfax and declare that whilst I will ride him, I will not enslave him, and will most certainly allow him to return to Rohan at any point."  
"Good, my Son." Elrond praised. "I will go with you. Afterall, I have promised my friend that I will check on Asfaloth's leg."


End file.
